


Not Just Any Port in a Storm

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Rain, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: They shared a bed as children when the world was too scary to pass the night alone. It hasn't gotten less frightening as they've gotten older.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	Not Just Any Port in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheseusInTheMaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/gifts).



Vanya couldn’t remember how old she was the first time she crept down the hallway and slipped beneath the covers of Allison’s bed, but she could remember other things about that night. She remembered the peace in the knowledge that their father was gone for the weekend, and the relief that their mother and Pogo had declared a whole day free from studies and training. She recalled with perfect clarity how quickly those emotions were chased away by the way the old house creaked and groaned as the storm raged outside. Lightning lit the walls in bright, alternating patterns even in the windowless hallway where the bedrooms were located, filtering down through the stairwell from the windows on the floor above. She crept from shadow to shadow past the doors of her brothers’ rooms, flinching at the noise of every crash of thunder.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Allison grumbled into her pillow when Vanya’s little hands twisted the fabric of her fluffy floral comforter, but she scooted over to make room on the single bed all the same. Vanya crowded close, hiding her face beneath the sheet when the next boom of thunder rattled the windows. 

“I’m scared,” she whimpered, holding the covers tight over her head with one hand to block out the light and the sound. Her other hand tunnelled through the fabrics around them until she found Allison’s hand beneath the pillow and clutched her fingers like a lifeline.

Allison wrapped her other arm around the smaller girl, tangling them together. “Just for tonight,” she whispered into her hair. “Just for the storm.”

But it wasn’t just that night and that storm. Their childhood was full of storms, and not all of them came with thunder and rain. Mostly it was Vanya that crept through the nights to her sister’s bed, but sometimes it was Allison ducking through the cracked door and climbing into the little brass bed beneath Vanya’s checked blanket. There was comfort in the familiar, and an ease in one another’s presence that neither of them felt with anyone else. They were one another’s port in the storm, a haven from the wild ravages of the world around them. Allison was sure that Vanya’s door would never be closed to her, but the night of Ben’s funeral after the horrible things Diego had said she found that it wasn’t just closed. It was locked. She could have picked it, but something about the gesture raised the hairs at the back of her neck. Would it be overstepping? Vanya didn’t crawl into Allison’s bed again, and it wasn’t long before neither of them were living at the Academy anymore. Those nights beneath the covers clinging to one another faded, a memory tucked away and best avoided.

The death of Sir Reginald Hargreeves was like a funnel cloud crashing through the center of their lives, ripping things from the foundations as it passed them by. The tension in the family was worse, bitter feelings coloring every word spoken. Things were said and done that pushed the hurt harder in record time, and it wasn’t long before the Hargreeves siblings once again began to scatter from their childhood home. 

In retrospect, Allison probably should have waited at least until morning to go after her sister, but she’d seen the hurt in Vanya’s eyes before she left the Academy. She knew then that something was eating at the other woman, and she found as night fell that she couldn’t get the image of her sad eyes out of her mind. When she found herself unable to close her eyes, unable to drift along the emptiness and find herself asleep, she crept from her bed and out into the night.

It was still raining, fat drops cascading down from the sky and running in rivers down the edges of the streets. Allison clutched her umbrella close, pulling her shoulders in tight to stay as dry as she could while she hurried down the empty sidewalks. She stopped at a street corner to wait for a walk sign, habit bringing her to a standstill at the sight of the red light across the way even though there were no cars to be seen. The city was never truly silent, but as she stood there in the rain she thought the late hour and foul weather might be as close as it would ever get. There were no screeching tires, no honking horns, and no shouting people. The only sounds were the rain on the concrete and steel. Logically she knew she was surrounded by thousands, but there on the corner she’d never felt more alone.

The walk signal turned green and Allison crossed toward her destination, stepping out of the safety of the crosswalk to cut diagonally toward her destination. Vanya’s address wasn’t listed, but she wasn’t about to feel guilty for the little rumor she’d used to track it down. The building was old, all worn stone and ornamental carvings. The street door was unlocked, but the hallway inside was dark. Allison shook the rain from her umbrella on the stoop before ducking inside. She left it beside the door, unconcerned that someone might steal it. If their father’s legacy had assured them nothing else (aside from an exorbitant amount of both trauma and fighting capabilities) it made sure that umbrellas were never in short supply.

This time she didn’t hesitate to pick the lock, dropping to one knee long enough to fit a pair of twisted pins into the old fashioned keyhole. Her hand closed over a deadbolt as she eased the door open, and she shook her head at the thought that Vanya had it and didn’t use it. The flat was cosy in a way she wasn’t sure she’d expected, though she couldn’t see much of it in the dark. She waited just long enough for her eyes to adjust as she eased the door shut behind her and secured all of the locks—the deadbolt sliding silently into place—before she crept toward the open doorway behind the kitchen. There was a bathroom to the left barely illuminated by a nightlight whose bulb was on its last legs, and then she stood in the open doorway of a bedroom. Vanya looked almost impossibly small curled up in the middle of the queen-sized bed, drawn up as she was in a tight little ball. She was also incredibly still and it triggered those memories of stormy nights to rise up in Allison’s mind with a nagging little note:  _ Vanya does not sleep still. _

“It’s just me,” Allison whispered, keeping her voice quiet even though there was no one to overhear them. She bent double to reach for her boots, shedding them and her jacket there in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” Vanya, too, barely spoke above a whisper, but Allison could see the rigid lines of her body beneath the blankets relax just the tiniest bit. She shrugged, sure that Vanya was watching the movement. 

“It’s storming.”

There was no resistance when Allison peeled back the woolen blanket and soft cotton top sheet and worked herself beneath them. It barely took any time before they’d arranged themselves together just like they’d done all those years ago in smaller beds and much smaller bodies. Vanya curled herself into Allison, her face nestling into her collarbone and her arms winding about her torso. Their heartbeats thundered and stuttered, thumping beneath both of their skin as if they might try to break free from their chests all together. Allison dragged her hand up and down the length of Vanya’s spine at a slow and steady pace. They lay like that together for a long time, re-learning the feel of one another in the silence of the apartment.

“I shouldn’t have let you lock yourself away,” Allison whispered some time later, squeezing her arms around Vanya tighter.

Vanya shook her head then pulled back until she could look Allison in the eyes. “It’s okay.”

They stared at one another and slowly—ever so slowly—drifted closer. Allison’s lips brushed against Vanya’s skin, barely catching at the corner of the other woman’s lips. It might have been an accident. They both sucked in a breath, their eyes drifting closed. They pulled one another closer, and there was nothing accidental in the kisses that followed.

Outside on the street, the rain continued to fall.


End file.
